The Robinsons
by keep-me-posted
Summary: A collection of short stories featuring your favorite futuristic family! (This story will be updated daily throughout the month of March to celebrate MTR's 9th anniversary)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Come March 30th, Meet the Robinsons will be celebrating its 9th anniversary. Starting today (March 1st) I will try to post 1-2 short drabbles every day, until we hit the anniversary (March 30th). Maybe even longer, if I still have ideas.

 **Please note:** These drabbles will be posted in no particular order. Some of them might not even connect with each other. If that's not the kind of story you like to read, I wouldn't bother with this.

Story ideas are welcome! Thanks for reading! And keep moving forward!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Meet the Robinsons or any of its characters.

* * *

 **1\. BIRTH**

He'd been waiting for this day for as long as he could remember.

Cornelius held onto his Franny's hand as tightly as she was gripping his, whispering kind, positive words as she performed miracles far beyond his science.

All that constant planning, precise calculating, careful timing...and suddenly, he was here.

After a moment with the nurses, the child was passed to him, as Franny was still recovering from her previous feat.

"Do you have a name?"

He heard his wife give her naturally bubbly, albeit exhausted, laugh before she replied. "He's has a name picked out since we first started dating."

Cornelius chuckled before smiling down at his newborn son. "Hello again," He said, lightly tapping the infant's nose with the tip of his index finger. "Wilbur."

* * *

 **2\. CAUGHT**

"Hey there, Carl!"

The robot turned quickly to the voice, a bit of hysteria in his voice. "M-Mr. Robinson, good to see you."

Unlike most of his family, who'd finally grown accustomed to calling him Cornelius, Carl had moments where he would bounce from calling him Cornelius to Lewis and back. He assumed it had to do with Carl's programming. Since he created Carl when he was still often referred to Lewis, he figured it just stayed with him. Like a hidden file on your computer that you can't see, but still shows up from time to time.

But there was only one reason - one person, really - that caused Carl to call him in such a formality. _Wilbur_.

Cornelius crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled through a quick eye roll. "Alright, where is he and what has he done?"


	2. Chapter 2

**3\. CHARGE**

Upon being created, one of the first things Carl was introduced to was his charger.

"This is your charging station," Cornelius had said. "Whenever you start to feel...drained, you come and stand here till you feel better again."

When he first created it, it was simply an enclosed tube, that looked a little like those showers with the sliding doors. As Cornelius grew, so did the charging station. After a while, it began to look more like a bedroom of sorts, with the bed itself being the actual charger in the station.

One might have found having to be charged a nuisance, but as Carl saw it, it just made him more human. And what was technically him recharging his battery, was similar to humans going to sleep at night.

Unfortunately, as Wilbur got older, sleep seemed to be a thing of the past. Not just for Wilbur himself, but for Carl, too, as he was usually dragged on the boy's little misadventures.

On one particular night, Carl had just helped Lefty finish cleaning the dining room (Taco Tuesday always seemed to be more messy than any other night) and headed to his charging station, when Wilbur suddenly blocked his path.

"Not tonight, little buddy," Carl yawned, his arms giving an involuntary squeak as he stretched. "I need to get some rest."

"No time for rest," Wilbur said, peeking over Carl's shoulder, as if someone was following him. "We're on a very important mission."

"You mean _you're_ on a very important mission," The robot said, moving around Wilbur so he could walk forward again. " _I'm_ going to bed."

"How can you think of sleep at a time like this?"

"At a time like what?" Carl turned his head completely around, while his body continued walking.

Wilbur groaned. "Alright, I didn't wanna give this to you till your birthday, but if it's the only way..."

Suddenly, sleep was the last thing on Carl's mind. "You got me something?"

"I _made_ you something."

"Let me see!" Carl insisted, excitedly.

Wilbur quickly glanced from side to side, then reached into his back pocket. What he pulled out looked to be about the size of a remote. It also looked very plain.

Carl deflated, but continued with wavering curiosity. "What is it?"

"Well, let me show you," He said, walking behind the robot.

He pulled open a compartment in his back and stuck the small object in an empty slot. When he closed the compartment again, Carl felt a sudden boost of energy. He gave Wilbur a questioning look.

"It's a battery," He told him. "Like the one in my phone. You charge _it_ instead of you." He pulled out a second one and handed it to him. "I made two, so when _that_ one dies, you just put the second one in while the first one's charging."

Carl looked at the spare battery Wilbur gave him, flipping it over in his hands. "You made this yourself?"

"Yeah, kinda," The boy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I just, y'know, took dad's blueprints of your charging station and made it...smaller."

The realization hit Carl then and he could barely hide the amusement in his voice. "So...you're like an inventor."

"Yeah, yeah," Wilbur rolled his eyes, then he pointed a warning finger at the robot. "Not that you need to go blabbing it to everyone. I've got a good thing going here."

Carl just laughed. "Whatever you say, _Son of the Future_."


	3. Chapter 3

**4\. OLD**

When children hit a certain age, they almost always want a pet. A dog, more often than not. So when Wilbur made same the request, his parents took him to the pound to adopt one.

It was a personal choice, not only for Cornelius, considering where he came from, but for Franny, too, who found - rescued, really - all of her frogs.

Wilbur scanned the dogs, dragging his fingers across the bars of the cages.

"See any you like, son?"

"I don't want any of _these_ dogs," Wilbur complained. "They're too _old_."

That simple sentence suddenly struck a nerve in Cornelius. Something that had been long forgotten. Although most of his adoption interviews had gone awry due to him testing out his faulty inventions on the many couples, there were certain times when it was simply Lewis' age that caused them to turn the other way. They wanted a younger child. He was _too old_.

Franny didn't seem to notice Cornelius' moment till it had already passed, and he held his head to recover. His wife stepped in then, kneeling so she was at Wilbur's height.

"Now, sweetheart," She said, her hands on each of his shoulders. "That's no reason to not want a dog. There's nothing wrong with old things."

Wilbur, who was well beyond his years, even at the age of 5, seemed to catch onto the tension his previous outburst had caused, and nodded. "Well, I want a little dog, then," He gestured the size with his hands. "Like puppy size."

"Now that I can help with," The pound worker spoke up, guiding the family to a cage down the hall. "What do you think of this little fella?"

The man opened the cage, and the small dog walked out, cautiously, as if observing the world around him with blurry vision. When he reached Wilbur, he sniffed at his shirt, then excitedly covered his face in dog kisses.

The boy laughed. "He's perfect."

"What's his name?" Cornelius asked, when his previous thoughts had finally past.

Wilbur picked up the dog tag between his fingers and read slowly, "His name is...Buster."

* * *

 **5\. CRUSH**

It was dumb, Carl knew this.

For one thing, he was a robot. No matter how intelligent, or human-like Cornelius made him, he was still just a mess of nuts, bolts, and circuitry on the inside. For another thing, she was family. Not technically, of course. After all, you can't exactly be blood-related to someone when you yourself don't even have blood. But they did live together. And he'd known her since she was about Wilbur's age.

Yet, every time she zipped past him - fast, yet gracefully, on those high-tech skates of her's - Carl felt his insides go haywire. And though he didn't technically have them, he assumed this was the robot equivalency of butterflies in your stomach, or feeling your heart pound right out of your chest.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Filler chapter of sorts. Couldn't come up with clever endings for these 2.

* * *

 **6\. TALK**

Ever since Wilbur was little, whenever he had a secret, he would always motion the person he was talking to under the dining room table, so he could whisper it to them. More often than not, that person would be Carl. As a child, he considered this to be the most secure place in the entire house.

As he got older, this still rang true, although he was much more careful when he took these moments to talk. During dinner seemed to work best, for even though the whole family was present, when he slipped off his seat and under the tablecloth, no one ever noticed he was missing. As long as he was brief.

After Wilbur reached a certain age, though, spilling secrets under the table seemed rather pointless. But it still served as a good place for Carl to discuss his most recent mishap, without alerting the family.

Wilbur respected Carl for this. For although most of the time he included the robot on his plans, there were some times he did things on his own. This didn't stop Carl from noticing, however.

So, on those all too common occasions, after the family was busy scarfing down their dinner, Carl would let out a noticeable "ahem" and signal to below the table with just his eyes. Wilbur would then dart around for a moment, and slip under undetected, ready to talk.

* * *

 **7\. RUNAWAY**

"Lew-Cornelius!" Franny yelled, as soon as he opened the door. It had been years since he officially changed his name, but even Franny, who he spent most of his time with, struggled with it. Not that he minded. She could call him whatever she wanted. "I'm so glad you're home!"

"What seems to be the problem, Franny?" He asked, hiding what appeared to be a grin on his face.

"It's Frankie!" She replied, somewhat hysterically. "He's run away!"

"Now that _is_ a pickle," Cornelius said. He walked away for a moment, then returned, only his head peeking out the open doorway. "If only," He started, inching himself more into view with each word. "We knew...where...to find him."

"Frankie!" Franny exclaimed, grabbing the frog that currently rested on her boyfriend's shoulder. She kissed the creature several times, before she forced a scowl. "What have I told you about running away?"

"That's my fault, actually," Cornelius cut in. "Frankie didn't really run away. I...borrowed him for a little experiment of mine."

"Oh? What kind of experiment?"

The man waved the frog over, who immediately obeyed, hopping into Cornelius' open hand. "Frankie wants to ask you something," He said, then quickly added, "On my behalf."

Curious, Franny watched as her star pupil cleared his throat and began to speak. It wasn't the fact that he was speaking that made her gasp - as she'd been teaching her frogs to sing (and talk) for years - but what he said. "Franny...will you marry...Cornelius?"

The woman blinked in total shock as the blonde got down on his knee, and her frog held a ring, while still standing in Cornelius' open palm.

She barely hesitated her response. "Yes!"


	5. Chapter 5

**8\. MEMORY**

When Franny came into their bedroom that night, after a long day (for both of them), Cornelius stopped short upon seeing her. This wasn't uncommon for him, of course. Despite how long they've been married, she still often took his breath away.

But it was her outfit that seemed to catch him this time. And not just her dress, but her whole attire, even the way she wore her hair that particular evening.

"That dress," Cornelius found himself finally speaking. "Is that new, Fran?"

"Don't be ridiculous," She said, pulling out the ribbon that held her hair up. "I've had this forever."

"Well, it's stunning," He said, pulling his glasses off to clean them. "It reminds me of..." He found himself scanning through his memories. Then it hit him. "That's the dress you wore the day Wilbur brought me..." He trailed off, assuming that was enough information. It was an event neither of them liked to talk about too much.

Franny twirled the ribbon around her hand. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"You know, it's funny," Cornelius began again. "But whenever I think back to that day, the one thing that always sticks with me is the fact that I called you _mom_."

Franny raised an eyebrow. "No you didn't."

"I did," He laughed. "It was right after the dinosaur fight. I had a lot of other things to deal with after that, but I still remember coming back home after everything. I would lay in bed, waiting for sleep, and then that thought would just hit me: I called my future wife ' _mom_ '."

Franny shook her head and laughed, settling into bed beside him.

"It was embarrassing," He insisted, though he was chuckling, too. "Surely you felt embarrassed about it when you realized who I was.

Franny took a moment to consider this. "Embarrassed, no. I just remember being terrified when I found out. Then angry. At Wilbur...at you."

Cornelius held up his hands, defensively. "Why were you angry at me?"

"Not younger you," Franny tried. "Older you, and the fact that you even made those time machines."

"Oh."

"I'm okay with them now," She soothed, running her hand up and down her husband's arm. Then added, quietly. "Just wish Wilbur wasn't."

Cornelius crossed his arms, a pout on his face.

"Niel..." She started. When he didn't respond, she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He found himself blushing, despite himself.

"You know I love you," She insisted, kissing him between words.

"But not my inventions."

She shook her head, a small smile forming. "I love you," She began, her lips just inches from his. "Inventions _and all_."

* * *

 **9\. MATURE**

"Wilbur, thank goodness you're here!" Lewis grabbed the boy who just showed up, clear terror in his eyes.

"Whoa, easy, dude," Wilbur brushed the teen off. "What's the problem?"

"It's Franny," The younger boy said, turning away. "She broke up with me!"

"Mom did!?"

Lewis nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "She said things were going too fast. That she needed some space to think."

Wilbur had his share of girlfriends, so this was nothing new. "So?"

" _So!?_ " Lewis exclaimed. "So, what if I blew it? What if we never get back together? You'll have never been born and-"

"Lewis, chill!" Wilbur yelled, grabbing his future father's wrist and forcing him into his swivel chair. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

The blonde waited a moment or two, just to be sure. "Yes."

"So everything's fine."

"But how can you-"

"Trust me," The raven-haired teen said. "I've had my share of girlfriend problems. Just give mo...Franny a few days. She'll come around." He patted Lewis on the back.

"Thanks," The blonde wiped his nose again and breathed out. He looked up. "How old are you now, anyway?"

"Almost 18," Wilbur replied, smugly, rubbing his knuckles against his chest.

"Huh," Lewis chuckled, considering for a moment how calm his future son was with his previous moment of hysteria. "Could it be you're actually...maturing?"

"You sound surprised."

"I just never thought I'd see the day."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hey, guys! I'm running low on stories already, so if you've got ANY ideas, please share! Even if it's simply just characters you'd like to see, just let me know! Could really use some inspiration.

* * *

 **10\. SMART**

"Wilbur?" Franny said, stepping into her son's room. "Honey, I've been calling you down for almost a half hour." She sat beside him on his bed. "Is everything okay?"

"No."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I just...don't want to celebrate my birthday, that's all," He grumbled, arms prominently crossed over his chest.

"But sweetie, you love your birthday."

"Not this year."

"Why not?"

"Because...because I don't want to be 14!" He exclaimed, before quickly turning away.

Franny blinked. "What's wrong with being 14?"

The boy only muttered in reply.

"Wilbur..." His mother warned.

"Because...that's the age dad was...when he graduated...college."

Franny took her hand away from her son's shoulder and placed it on her lap. "Oh."

"And I'm not even close," He said, finally looking back at his mother. "I'm just not...smart like him."

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. "Hey, everything okay in there?" After a moment, Cornelius let himself in. "Uncle Joe's seen the cake, son. We should get to those candles before a riot breaks out!" He chuckled.

Franny shook her head, then motioned it over at Wilbur, his head down.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"Wilbur doesn't think he's smart," Franny answered for him.

"My boy?" Cornelius began. "Not smart?" He huffed, the statement completely absurd to him.

"Well, I'm not," Wilbur muttered into his chest, before looking up. "You were already finished with college when you were my age."

His father blinked, taken aback. "Is that what this is about?"

Franny shrugged solemnly, while Wilbur returned to his head down position. Cornelius excused Franny then, asking her to calm things downstairs, as the sound of plates breaking began to echo through the halls.

When she left, Cornelius took her place on the bed, resting a hand on his son's shoulder. "Wilbur," He began. "Wilbur, look at me."

The boy forced his vision upwards.

"Now listen," He said, his voice firm. " _You_ are smartest person I know."

Wilbur rolled his eyes.

"You are," Cornelius pressed. "Because without you, I never would have graduated at the age of 14."

"What?"

"It's true," He insisted. "I never would have succeeded in showing off my first invention...I never would have met your mother...I never would have seen _my_ mother..."

Wilbur looked up, surprised.

"I couldn't have done any of that without your help," His father said, shaking his shoulder lightly. "And helping a little orphan boy ultimately become the Father of the Future...well, I'm certain you'd have to be just about the smartest kid in the world to do something like that."

"Yeah..." The raven-haired boy considered this for a moment longer. "Yeah! I guess you're right!" He stood up with sudden empowerment and headed towards his bedroom door. Just before his hand reached the doorknob, though, he glanced behind him. "Thanks, dad."

"No, Wilbur," Cornelius stood up and wrapped an arm around his boy's shoulders. "Thank _you_."


End file.
